


Lullaby

by nerdqueenenterprise



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Pre-Canon, implied insomniac hugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 23:05:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17907401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdqueenenterprise/pseuds/nerdqueenenterprise
Summary: Hugh can't sleep. Paul sings for him.





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pencilguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pencilguin/gifts).



> sup

_“You look like crap,”_ is the first thing out of Paul’s mouth when the connection is established.

Hugh snorts. “Thank you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

_“Your skin is grey, you have bags under your eyes, your shave is not on point and there are lines all over your face. Jesus, Hugh! Are you alright?”_

Hugh rubs a hand over his face and sighs. “Just because you might be right doesn’t mean I want to hear it, you know. Maybe I’m just getting old. Hi, by the way.”

_“Hi. What’s wrong?”_ Paul’s face goes soft and he tilts his head in this way that tells Hugh Paul is actually worrying and not being mean.

“Mhmm. Busy. Really busy. Um… we got into a firefight a couple of days ago, so, well, in order for those command types to keep up their bluster and gung-ho attitude the medical personnel has to do overtime to keep them in shape. I’m just tired, Paul, it’s alright.”

_“Not been sleeping well?”_

“Of course not.” Hugh gives a wry smile. “You know me, Paul.”

_“You enjoy overworking yourself.”_ Paul tucks his feet under himself and sighs. _“Can I help you?”_

“It’s not just overworking, you know. And I don’t enjoy it, it’s just easier.”

_“Easier than?”_

“Easier than going to bed when I know I won’t be able to sleep.”

_“You could take medication.”_ Hugh pouts at Paul, making him laugh. _“Right, sorry for suggesting the sensible solution. Um. What else would help?”_

“You could sing me to sleep. Make me warm milk with honey, then put warm socks on my feet, tuck me in and sing me to sleep. It’s what my mom used to do when I was a kid.”

Paul’s gaze turns soft, and Hugh enjoys the way his upturned eyebrows crinkle. 

_“That’s adorable. What would she sing?”_

“Oh, I couldn’t remember.” Hugh laughs, blinking away the tiredness in his eyes, and thinks of Paul actually singing him to sleep. He’s got a very nice voice, and the few times Hugh has been able to wheedle Paul into singing have been absolutely delightful.

 

 

 

 

After their call, Hugh tries to keep the promise he made Paul and changes into his pyjamas and crawls into bed. He _is_ tired, and he can barely keep his eyes open.

Sleep evades him still.

 

 

 

 

Two days later and it’s Friday and even though Hugh’s sleep hasn’t gotten much better, he finally caved and requested meds, and they should be done synthesising just as his shift ends. He’s off for the weekend, stoically enduring his colleagues’ teasing that he won’t know what to do with his free time. 

In some ways he’s relieved when the door to his quarters swishes shut and he can flop down on the couch and just close his eyes. It’s been an exhausting two weeks, and he didn’t have enough time to meet up with his friends as regularly as usually to go running or to the gym, not enough time to keep up with the journals he reads, and definitely not enough time to chat with Paul. Which is rude. Not getting to chat with Paul is very rude, and he’d like to blame the universe personally. Hopefully Paul will be able to make time for a call today, even though he didn’t seem particularly assured about it.

Also he really needs to kick off planning the farewell party his department wants to have for the two people who got reassigned.

Hugh groans in complaint at the empty room for a bit, then actually gets up and gets to it. (Or rather he rolls onto his side and fishes for his private PADD, but whatever.)

 

 

 

 

 

It’s already technically his bedtime when Paul finally texts him. Hugh pauses the show he had running and wipes the crumbs from his snacks off his fingers before checking his PADD.

_— hi honey im really sorry but i wont be able to make the call today :( lots of stupidness came up at the lab today and i still have to prep for the presentation and stuff. hope youre doing alright though. please get some sleep. i love you!!!_

_— oh also check your mail <3_

Aw. 

Hugh pouts. He’d really been looking forward to seeing Paul’s pretty face today and listen to him ramble about something and forget the distance between them for a bit. But no such luck.

He lets himself soak in loneliness for a bit before texting Paul back and checking his mail.

Paul’s mail simply says “sleep well” and has an attachment of a… huh. A video file?

Hugh opens it while it’s still downloading, so for a brief moment the black screen reflects his face from the exceptionally unattractive angle from below his chin. Then it’s replaced by Paul’s face.

Nothing happens for a few moments where Paul makes sure it’s actually recording.

And then he sings.

It’s soft and warm and it makes Hugh actually drowsy and the simple happiness in Paul’s expression makes his heart flutter. It’s no song Hugh has ever heard before, and it’s not in Standard, but whatever it is, it’s good. So good.

Paul ends the song on a artful little waver in his voice and smiles. _“Good night, honey.”_

So he actually sang Hugh a lullaby.

The video auto-restarts and Paul starts to sing again and Hugh lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, going lax against his couch and just listens to Paul sing.

 

 

 

 

And maybe it’s the medication or maybe it’s his exhaustion or maybe it’s Paul singing to him on a loop, but he finally manages to fall asleep quickly in his bed later and then sleeps a whole fourteen hours. They’re filled with diffuse warm dreams of Paul.


End file.
